Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Barbara Pogačnik

JUNE THREAD

And not just the weeping,
as with Mrs. Dalloway's trembling flowers,
but it is about the tears returning to their source,
as if travelling through tiny root veins 
up the backbone of a great tree,
a journey enlightening us about the nature of liquids,
their symbiosis with the air that we breathe in sleep –

all of these are signs of feeling for handholds through time, 
of words others speak at such times into morning’s
grey beard of light, between night and dawn,
while like theatre mice they were hugging and cheering
for life, and you find yourself between an inward looking self 
and another that you share with the one next to you
in a cocoon of meanings between two bodies

through which, even while dreaming,
the sap of all thoughts moves 
 

JUNITOUW

En niet alleen het wenen,
zoals de bevende bloemen van mevrouw Dalloway,
maar de tranen die naar hun bron terugkeren,
als naar de ruggengraat van een grote boom,
de reis door de aderen van een plant,
die het merg van de vloeistoffen verlicht,
in symbiose met de lucht, die we ademen in de slaap –

dit zijn allemaal tekens van tasten naar houvast in de tijd,
woorden die anderen hebben gezegd
in de grijze baard van het ochtendlicht tussen nacht en dageraad,
toen ze elkaar als theatermuizen omhelsden en ze het leven
toejuichten, tussen de in zichzelf gekeerde kant en die,
die je met een ander naast jou deelt
in de cocon van betekenissen tussen twee lichamen,

waar ook tijdens de slaap steeds het sap
van alle gedachten stroomt
 

VRV Z JUNIJA

In ne samo jok,
kot drhtenje rož gospe Dalloway,
temveč vračanje solz na izvir,
kot v hrbtišče velikega drevesa,
potovanje po nitkah rastlinskih žil,
ki nam razsvetljuje bistvo tekočin,
v sožitju z zrakom, ki se diha v spanju –

vse to so znaki tipanja oprijemk skozi čas,
besed, ki so jih ob tem izgovorili drugi
v sivo brado jutranje svetlobe med nočjo in zoro,
ko so se kot gledališke miši objemale in navijale
za življenje, med vase obrnjeno stranjo in tisto,
ki jo deliš z drugim ob sebi
v kokonu pomenov med telesoma,

kjer tudi v spanju ves čas teče
drevesni sok vseh misli
 
Close

JUNE THREAD

And not just the weeping,
as with Mrs. Dalloway's trembling flowers,
but it is about the tears returning to their source,
as if travelling through tiny root veins 
up the backbone of a great tree,
a journey enlightening us about the nature of liquids,
their symbiosis with the air that we breathe in sleep –

all of these are signs of feeling for handholds through time, 
of words others speak at such times into morning’s
grey beard of light, between night and dawn,
while like theatre mice they were hugging and cheering
for life, and you find yourself between an inward looking self 
and another that you share with the one next to you
in a cocoon of meanings between two bodies

through which, even while dreaming,
the sap of all thoughts moves 
 

JUNE THREAD

And not just the weeping,
as with Mrs. Dalloway's trembling flowers,
but it is about the tears returning to their source,
as if travelling through tiny root veins 
up the backbone of a great tree,
a journey enlightening us about the nature of liquids,
their symbiosis with the air that we breathe in sleep –

all of these are signs of feeling for handholds through time, 
of words others speak at such times into morning’s
grey beard of light, between night and dawn,
while like theatre mice they were hugging and cheering
for life, and you find yourself between an inward looking self 
and another that you share with the one next to you
in a cocoon of meanings between two bodies

through which, even while dreaming,
the sap of all thoughts moves 
 
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère